


First Snow

by kathkin



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (1963)
Genre: Fluff, Gen, friendship fic, no plot to speak of
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-07
Updated: 2015-02-07
Packaged: 2018-03-10 22:43:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3306092
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kathkin/pseuds/kathkin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There's lights in the sky and strange noises in the woods. But who cares about that when it's snowing! Or, Zoe has never seen snow before, and Jamie introduces her to the joy and fun of snowball fights.</p>
            </blockquote>





	First Snow

“Your nose has gone all pink,” said Jamie. “You look like a wee mouse.”

“Oh, shut up,” said Zoe. She was tired, and her feet hurt, and above all else she was _cold_. She’d put a coat on before leaving the TARDIS, but now she wished she’d bundled up more. She wasn’t used to cold. She was used to the constant twenty degrees celsius of the Wheel. It was well below freezing, and the worst part was the Doctor and Jamie didn’t seem to mind. The Doctor was quite comfortable in that ridiculous coat of his, and Jamie was walking about with his knees cheerfully bare.

They’d been wandering about those miserable, frigid woods for hours, and now the sun had vanished below the horizon, the temperature was dropping, and it was too late to get back to the TARDIS for the night. So there they were, Zoe retreating into her coat like a tortoise, Jamie teasing her, and the Doctor banging on the door of a building he was ‘ _fairly sure_ ’ was some sort of inn.

To Zoe’s immense and inexpressable relief, he was right. After what seemed like an eternity of waiting, they were let in by the rather bemused innkeeper. “We don’t normally get travellers this time of year,” she said as she ushered them into the quiet hallway. Her gaze fell on Zoe. “Oh, your poor dear! You look frozen half to death. Shall I get you some tea?”

“I’m alright,” Zoe protested. “Really.”

“I’m a bit cold,” Jamie chipped in.

The innkeeper ignored him. “I’ll fetch you some tea,” she said. She looked at them doubtfully. “We’ve only got the one room laid out with bedding. Shall I –”

“Are there two beds?” said the Doctor. The innkeeper indicated that there were. “Then that’s perfectly fine. I shall sleep on the floor.”

The innkeeper showed them to their room, then proceeded to bustle in and out for the better part of twenty minutes, setting up the fire and bringing them their tea, quite preventing them from talking openly. The room was a decent size, the beds comfortable-looking, if a bit frilly for Zoe’s taste. There were some unlit oil lamps, a wash stand, and, much to her displeasure, a chamber pot (which she had no intention of using). She sat perched on a chair, warming her toes and listening to the Doctor and Jamie making the kind of conversation ordinary travellers might make.

At long last they seemed to be alone. The Doctor knelt by the fire and took up the poker. “D’you think we’re safe here?” said Jamie. “If there’s something in the woods.”

“I wonder if there is anything,” said the Doctor. “No-one seems to have seen it. What do you think, Zoe?”

“That charcoal-burner said he saw footprints,” said Zoe. “Oh, I don’t know.” She was too tired to worry about lights in the sky and strange noises in the woods.

“You warm enough?” said Jamie.

“I’m _fine_ ,” Zoe insisted. Well, she was getting there, now that she’d stopped shivering.

The Doctor finished poking the fire and straightened up, adjusting his baggy trousers. “Well, we can all sleep on it.”

“There’s something out there, I’m sure of it,” Jamie insisted. “Hey, d’you think –” Whatever he was going to ask, he fell silent as the door handle rattled.

“Only me,” said the innkeeper, sidling in with an armful of linen. “I brought you some more blankets, dearies. And some night shirts, since you don’t seem to have any luggage. All quite comfortable?” They all muttered affirmations, and smiled politely till she was gone.

“We’ll sleep on it,” said the Doctor firmly once they were alone. He settled himself in the other chair and kicked off his shoes to warm his toes. He sat for a moment, drumming his fingers together, then stood up decisively. “I think – hmm. I may just – go for a walk, before bed.” With that vaguest of explanations, he hurried out of the room, leaving his shoes upon the hearth rug.

“Where’s he off to?” said Jamie.

“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said Zoe. She began to sort through the extra linen, picking out another blanket for herself.

Jamie was sitting on the bed closest to the window, testing out the mattress. “Is it alright if I take this one?”

“Whichever’s fine,” said Zoe. She selected one of the nightshirts and turned to find Jamie already stretched out atop the covers. He’d taken off his shoes and jacket, but otherwise seemed content to sleep in his clothes. “I’m going to change.”

“Hmm?” said Jamie. “Oh! Right.” He sat up and swivelled about, turning away from her to face the window. He sat like that, drumming his fingers impatiently on the bedspread, while she stripped down to her underwear and tugged the cottony nightshirt over her head. “You decent yet?”

“More or less,” she said, straightening the nightshirt. Jamie half-rolled back onto the bed. The light in the room was getting steadily lower. Zoe wasn’t sure how to light the lamps, and she didn’t think Jamie knew either.

“Where d’you think we are?” he said to the ceiling. “I cannae tell if it’s earth.”

“I don’t think it’s earth,” said Zoe. “I wonder if these people are human.”

“They look human,” said Jamie.

“So does the Doctor,” Zoe pointed out. Jamie grunted in agreement. “Alright. I’m tired. I’m going to sleep.”

“G’night,” said Jamie.

“Good night,” said Zoe, tugging down the bedspread and wriggling in between the blankets. She turned over to face the wall, where odd shadows danced in the firelight.

She’d known him a little over a month – or something like that, it was hard to be sure – and she still couldn’t work Jamie out. Of course, she couldn’t work the Doctor out either, but she’d quickly accepted that she never would. Jamie wasn’t an eternal enigma the way the Doctor was. If anything, he was deceptively simple. At first she’d thought he just wasn’t very bright, but then he proved to have the most appalling gaps in his general knowledge. When she found out where – or rather, when – he was from, he made much more sense. Except she quickly realised it wasn’t _just_ a matter of ignorance, and she had returned to her original assessment – but every now and then he had flashes of brilliance that left her baffled.

She closed her eyes against the firelight and snuggled deeper into the feather pillow, putting her musings aside.

*

Zoe woke up without any apparent cause – it must have been hours later, for the fire had burned down low. Across the room, Jamie was snoring quietly. The room was otherwise silent, and empty. The Doctor hadn’t come back, but curiously Zoe found she wasn’t worried. Wherever he was, she was certain he could look after himself.

She sat up in bed and gazed about the room. It was so quiet. All she could see of Jamie was his hair, mussed against the pillow. Despite how tired she’d been earlier, she found herself quite awake.

Through the gap in the curtains, she caught a glimpse of something moving. She climbed out of bed, wincing at the cold floor, and padded across the room, tip-toeing around the bed where Jamie was sleeping so soundly. At the window, she twitched the curtain aside and peeked out.

A moment later, she darted back to Jamie’s bed. “Jamie!” she hissed. “Jamie! Wake up!” She took him by the shoulder and shook him gently, then more roughly when he didn’t wake at once.

“Mmmph,” he said into the pillow. His eyes blinked open. He half sat up. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” said Zoe. “It’s – oh, just some and see.” She took him by the arm and did her best to drag him out of bed. He groaned, but acquiesed. She tugged him to the window and drew aside the curtain.

Outside, it was snowing, fat fluffy flakes like you’d get in a story book tumbling out of the sky like feathers or moths. The air was full of snow, the ground already inches deep with it. The view out the window was transformed into something soft and white and otherworldly, and her first sight of it had made Zoe’s breath catch in her throat with surprise and delight. “It’s snowing,” said Jamie flatly, as if it was a dreadful nuisance. He yawned and rested a hand on the window frame to steady himself.

“Yes,” said Zoe. “Isn’t it lovely?” Though she was beginning to realise that he might be less enthused than her.

“I suppose,” said Jamie, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Did you wake me up for that?”

“Yes,” said Zoe ruefully. “I’m sorry. I got a bit excited.”

“Och, it’s just snow,” said Jamie. “It’s no’ like you’ve never seen it before.” 

Zoe looked out the window, feeling a touch guilty. “I’ve seen it in pictures.”

Half asleep and so even slower on the uptake as usual, it took Jamie a moment to process her meaning. “You’ve never seen snow before?” He sounded quite baffled.

“Of course I haven’t,” said Zoe. “It was too warm for snow where I grew up – and then of course on the Wheel – it’s just so _pretty_.”

“Aye. I suppose it is.” Jamie looked out the window. Zoe could see him mulling it over. You could always see Jamie thinking. It stood out, because he did it so rarely. At length, he pushed himself away from the window frame and nudged her. “C’mon. Get dressed.”

“What?” said Zoe.

“Get dressed. We’re going out.”

“Right now?”

Jamie shrugged. “Why not?”

Why not indeed? Zoe hastened across the room for her clothes, leaving Jamie to lace his boots back on.

Outside, the snow was already ankle-deep, and it crunched delightfully underfoot. Zoe tramped about experimentally. Jamie winced as he stepped out behind her. “Ach, that’s cold.”

“Are your knees warm enough?” Zoe whispered back. 

He gave her a look. “My knees are plenty warm enough,” he said. “They’re sturdy highland knees.”

Zoe rolled her eyes and stomped out across the open ground behind the inn. It was a beautiful stretch of unbroken snow, smooth as fine porcelein and blueish in the faint light from the inn. She was glad of her borrowed boots. She tilted her head back to watch the flakes dance from the darkened sky, blinking to keep them out of her eyes.

“Does it snow often in Scotland?”

“Aye, most winters,” said Jamie from a way behind her. He sounded otherwise occupied. Before she could turn to see what he was doing, something cold struck her hard on the back of the neck. She squealed.

She swung about to see Jamie hunched over, shaping another snowball. “Jamie!”

“Watch out,” he said, and flung the snowball. She dodged and knelt down, hastily and clumsily making one of her own.

Her first shot went wide, but her second caught him full in the face. He yelped and stumbled back, scraping snow out of his eyes. “Och, I’ll get you for that.” He strode towards her, snowball still in hand.

“You’ll have to catch me first,” she said, laughing, and raced away up the rise. She paused part way up to turn and fling another snowball at him, then ran on, circling back towards the inn.

He did catch her, eventually, but not till they were both breathless, their hair full of snow. He grabbed her by the back of her coat and held her fast. “Got you,” he said.

“Oh, let go!” She squirming. “Hey – don’t! Jamie!” He had picked up a handful of snow and was in the act of forcing it down the back of her neck. She squealed and struggled harder. “ _Jamieee_.” He released her, laughing. “Oh, you –” 

Fuming, she gave him a hard shove. He stumbled and fell heavily on his behind, looking quite befuddled. Zoe cackled, but her laughter was cut short when a snowball struck the back of her head. 

She turned, startled, and saw a dark, bulky figure against the light of the inn. “Doctor?” she called.

“Hey,” said Jamie, struggling to his feet. “Where’ve you been – ack.” Another snowball struck him in the face with pin-point accuracy, knocking him back down.

The Doctor sauntered over to them, laughing. “What are you two doing up at this hour?”

“It’s snowing!” said Zoe.

“Yes, I can see that.” The Doctor offered Jamie his hand and hauled him upright.

“Where’ve you been?” said Jamie again.

“Following up a hunch,” said the Doctor. “I _was_ going to be back before you woke up.” He put his hands on his fluffy hips and glowered at them.

“Zoe woke me,” said Jamie, shaking snow out of his hair. “D’you know, she’d never –” Before he could finish the thought, there came a horrible sound from the forest – a dreadful rumbling that shook the trees, like some giant beast clearing his throat.

“Ah,” said the Doctor. Whatever he said next was drowned out when the sound came again. “It appears I was a little – wrong.” He said in the lull that followed, backing slowly away from the tree line. 

“What _is_ that?” said Jamie. His hand had found its way to Zoe’s shoulder, clutching her as if he intended to protect her.

“Whatever it is, I think it’s coming this way,” said Zoe. The sound came again, closer this time.

“I think you’re right,” said the Doctor. “I think we’d better run.”

“Are you sure –”

“ _Run_ , Zoe!” barked the Doctor, and took off at a pelting run across the field. Jamie followed him, snatching Zoe’s hand and dragging her behind him. Zoe tried to protest, but the wind snatched her words away. They ran on through the rapidly building blizzard, an unknown danger snapping at their heels, Jamie’s hand warm and solid in her own despite the cold.


End file.
